Harassing Lassie
by skinnylovebird
Summary: Carlton Lassiter has a one night stand, gets drunk, and can't remember who it was, and considers this a serious breach of security. Did Lassie have whiskey goggles? Or was she really the woman of his dreams? And, can Shawn keep his mouth shut? Rated M for sex, language and themes.
1. Chapter 1

Waking up in his bed, he groaned at the sharp pains in his head and back. Cursing liquor, he rolled over to find a chocolate on his pillow, cherry liqueur flavored. Rubbing his hand across his eyes with a bleary frown, he recalled some details from last night and groaned again. He pulled on an undershirt, and proceeded to the bathroom to shave. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a feminine bottle on the edge of his bathtub. Dropping the razor into the sink, he crouched down to read the label.

"Cherri Berri Bubble Bath™ - With Real Cherry Scent"

He groaned again and noted that he'd been doing a lot of that this morning. Putting a hand to his face, he realized two things. It was still covered in shaving cream, and he was late for work.

It shouldn't have been that hard to drive to the station in the morning, but it was, and he did. Pulling into the reserved lot by the front gave him a sense of belonging, of purpose, and he'd usually stride confidently through the bustling foyer and to his desk. But not today. Carlton got out of his car reluctantly, feeling Shawn's eyes on him even though the exuberant man-child was nowhere to be seen. Loosening his tie and squinting up at the July sun, he briefly considered sticking his head in the break room freezer when he got inside. The moment passed however, when he sighted Shawn bouncing down the concrete steps with Gus behind, advancing on him rapidly. He thought for a moment that the picture would be complete if Shawn had one of those toddler stuffed-monkey leashes with the end in Gus's hand.

"Lassie! Here. Take Gus's tie. You look like a shaggy water buffalo in Arizona."

Shawn deftly removed the navy tie with an exaggerated flick of his hand and wrapped it around Lassiter's head in a lopsided bow. His hair ruffled out around the tie, creating a genuinely goofy look had it not been for his attempts to burn a hole straight through Shawn's forehead. Procuring a feather from his pocket, Shawn tucked it behind Lassiter's ear and grew wide eyed.

"Ah! Lassie! Tomahawk my head!" He thrusted his scalp towards Carlton, earning an eye-roll from both men.

"Uh, Shawn? The term is 'scalp', and I'm pretty sure we might not be welcome right now."

Gus undid the bow from around Carlton's head, letting the feather fall to the concrete. Gingerly holding his newly sweat-stained Breuer tie, he scowled at the sidewalk. After a moment of intense internal deliberation, Lassiter spoke.

"Actually, I came here to see you guys"

Shawn's mouth fell into an exaggerated 'o', and he screeched.

"Lassie! Spill your scruffy salt and pepper secrets!"

Gus rolled his eyes and Lassiter ran his hand through his hair, briefly considering a dye, and then dismissing it when he thought of the mortification of walking into a salon.

"Okay, okay. Well..."

He couldn't seem to get it out, he knew everyone would know his secret as soon as Spencer opened his fool mouth. Never could keep a secret, that arrogant toddler. Shawn was nearly wiggling out of his pants while Gus looked on in a mixture of annoyance and pity for Lassie.

"TELL ME. ME ME ME!" Shawn screeched in suspense, flapping his arms around and coming dangerously close to hitting the tray of coffees McNab was walking by with.

"Hey, whoa!"

The tray wobbled precariously, and McNab righted himself, and handed a coffee to Carlton. Accepting the comfort of his highly sweetened coffee, he curtly nodded to Buzz, and turned to Shawn to finish his sentence.

"Aw jeez, Buzz I'm sorry. Here, I'd be happy to take this from you."

Shawn took the remaining coffee from a bewildered McNab, who left to enter the station in confusion. Sipping it and wrinkling his face in disgust, he gave it to a woman walking into the station and turned back to Carlton.

"I hate creamer in coffee."

Sighing in exasperation, Lassie gathered his thoughts, and spoke.

"I met someone... And I can't remember who she is."


	2. Chapter 2

"Oh my god."

All three men looked around to see if anyone had heard Lassiter. No one had, but they were gaining a little attention from people walking by. With the look on Carlton's face, they gave the three men a wide berth.

"Did Wassie go on a wittle bender wender?" Shawn cooed annoyingly.

"I may have drunk a few Whiskey Sours. That doesn't mean I was drunk."

Gus looked away in disbelief.

"Oh my god." He said again. "Lassie's into fruity drinks."

Carlton huffed in annoyance, and turned to Shawn, whose mouth finally caught up to his brain.

"Lassie!" He scolded. "You had a fruity, one night stand and now you can't remember the girl?"

"No! It wasn't a one night stand. I mean... I don't want it to be. That's why I need your help." Lassie paused. "I want to find her."

"Oh my god."

Gus was on the receiving end of a glare from Carlton and a girlish slap in the chest from Shawn.

"I have some things she left..." An uncharacteristic blush spread across Lassie's face and he looked down at the ground. Shawn and Gus retreated crablike a few feet away and deliberated.

"...Pfft...Macchiato...Llama mama...Gotta get the...Wrong with you...well where IS your mom?..."

Seemingly coming to an end, they crouched down and squat-walked toward Lassie. Running a hand through his hair again, he waited for them to re approach.

"Well?"

"Wee, monsoor."

"He means 'Oui, Monsieur.'" Gus explained, while jabbing Shawn in the ribs.

* * *

After getting the apartment number out of him, they'd bounded to his apartment faster than he could walk. He thought about his age and sighed. Having to use a cane was not something he was looking forward to, and his age had been weighing heavily on him for a while now. The girl who'd been at his flat last night, she'd loved his hair. He could remember her running her fingers through it and telling him it was beautiful.

Carlton blushed at the thought and walked towards his apartment a little faster, he could hear the sound of things being thrown around inside.

At his apartment, Carlton stood in the doorway and looked tense as the pair rooted through his things, throwing contents of drawers to the ground, and scowled when he saw Guster going through his fridge.

"Alright stop! I have all the things she left in my room. Stay."

Lassie thundered to his room and came straight back down the hallway, catching Gus in the act of eating a shortbread cookie from the jar on the counter. He scowled.

"Guster, get your hand out of my cookie jar."

He laid the items out on the coffee table, and they all took a seat on his black leather couch. She hadn't left many items behind, only a chocolate, a bottle of bubble bath, and a pair of nude nylons. He hadn't stopped blushing since the parking lot, and the red had spread farther across his cheeks. Shawn took the opportunity to tease him a bit.

"SO. If you can't remember who she is, can you remember what you did?"

Shawn winked suggestively, and Gus immediately proceeded to cover his ears and look out the window. The tips of Lassiter's ears went bright red, and he stuttered.

"No! N-no!"

Actually, he WAS starting to remember details about the night, but worked hard to keep any emotion off his face. He remembered her laugh when he brushed his lips across her neck, the way she gasped when he used his teeth, and the way her fingers curled into his shirt when he bit her lip gently. He was aware of a small voice in the back of his head, persistently tugging him away from his memories.

Noticing a hotel name printed on the chocolate wrapper, Shawn snapped Lassie out of his day dream.

"Lassie, man. Earth to Lassie."

"Piss off Spencer. Are the 'psychic spirits' speaking or not?"

"Yes Lassie. Yes they are. They are saying she currently resides at the Baymont Inn. She is blonde. And loves bubble baths."

Lassiter rolled his eyes.

"I knew all that except the Baymont Inn. What room? DO tell."

"I'm afraid the spirits will not speak until we are closer to her soul, Lassie. Owl-on-sea!"

"He means 'Allons-y'"


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh, hell."

Carlton was the first into the room at the Baymont, and the first to see that it had obviously been trashed. Female clothes littered the room, some of them even ripped apart. The drawers of the little nightstand were halfway across the room, and even the mattress was tipped off, exposing the grungy boards beneath. Lassie wrinkled his nose.

Shawn was 'discreetly' pawing through items for clues, and Gus had found a ceramic kitten in the bathroom, which now resided in his front pocket.

Carlton picked up a badly torn shirt and recognized it as the one she'd worn to the bar they'd gone home from. Snapping out of his stupor, he leapt into action.

"We have to call this in, she's obviously in danger, possibly even kidnapped. We can't file a missing-persons, but we can still tell the station to watch out for her and get the Chief's permission to investigate. God knows she owes me some favors."

Lassie's face was thunderous, and he walked out briskly, attempting to head to the station. He couldn't keep his shoulders high for long though, they slumped in worry as soon as he was sure Shawn and Guster couldn't see him.

_What's wrong with me? __I've never been this emotional over a woman. Much less someone who'd frequent a bar. It was really a one-off, that night, I only went to the bar because Juliet said I needed to get out of the house. Now look what's happened, I'm love-sick over a girl that I can barely remember. I can't deny they're good memories though._

He walked down the stairs to the parking lot and sighed.

_What if she's being abused? Tortured? Raped?_

He stopped, his fists shaking, and punched the wall viciously. Recoiling, he cradled his bleeding hand and looked at it contemplatively.

_Jesus Christ. I need to get it together and find her before any of those things DO happen._

* * *

At the station, he asked Karen if he could have two days off to further investigate her disappearance.

"Carlton, no! You're my head detective, and we are running a very high-profile case right now. I need you on Catrone, not some bar fling."

He got angry that she'd describe her as a bar fling, but then realized the truth and he sighed.

_I forgot about Catrone. That goddamned thug couldn't keep his hands out of bank vaults if he tried. _

Ricky Catrone was a high-profile member of an English gang that liked to call themselves a Mafia. He'd emigrated from Russia to England, and then taken up residence in Santa Barbara, aligning himself with the American-Italian Mafia. Owning the title 'Underboss', the Santa Barbara P.D. hoped to catch him, and gain a lead on the actual boss.

Victor Capo.

* * *

Shawn and Gus were still in Lassiter's apartment, and had found nothing useful.

"Shawn, we should just go, I don't feel comfortable rooting through the man's things."

"You stole his fling's ceramic kitten, Gus."

"Yeah well, she ain't ever swung a sword at-"

Shawn had flung a hand up and slapped it over Gus's mouth. Pushing it away with a disgusted look on his face, he glanced at what Shawn was seeing.

A cigarette had been stubbed out on the rug, and on the unburnt end, the letter 'V' was printed.


End file.
